


i'll be loving you (if you just dare me)

by greyspilot



Series: there are an infinite number of universes (and we belong together in every one) [3]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Dumb boys being dumb, M/M, Truth or Dare, a little bit of a tease, mutual pining IF YOU SQUINT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23136349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyspilot/pseuds/greyspilot
Summary: Requested by @awickedplacethisis on tumblr: "Is this really your idea of fun?” + “Truth or dare.”
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: there are an infinite number of universes (and we belong together in every one) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661146
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	i'll be loving you (if you just dare me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlashMountain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashMountain/gifts).



> title from Dare Me by The Pointer Sisters

Steve _really_ didn’t want to be at this party, in Tommy’s _house_ , in Tommy’s kitchen drinking Tommy’s cheap beer and listening to Tommy’s shitty music. (Steve really just didn’t want to be in Tommy’s _life_ , but Billy was in Tommy’s life and Steve wanted _Billy_ in his, maybe a little more than he cared to admit, so he made sacrifices.)

Yet here he was, standing in a corner with a beer in his hand (the same one he’d grabbed when they’d arrived and quickly lost the urge to drink) and completely alone. And it wasn’t like he was upset about that, not _really_. He didn’t mind so much that girls didn’t stop and flirt, that guys brushed past him without a boisterous clap on the back and an exclamation of _King Steve_! He didn’t mind that he went relatively unnoticed these days. Really. He didn’t.

What he _did_ mind was that Billy had been bugging him for a _week_ to come to this damn party. Had been saying _this ain’t about Tommy, fuck him, this is about you and me having some damn fun, Stevie_! What he _did_ mind was that he was _weak_ around Billy Hargrove. Weak to the way Billy had wrapped an arm around his shoulder, the way Billy called him _Stevie_ , the way Billy had leaned in last night and murdered in his ear, voice low and rough from the weed they’d been smoking all night, _c’mon, pretty boy. Just go with me_.

What Steve _did_ mind, was that he let Billy Hargrove play him like a fucking violin because sure, Billy had bugged him, almost begged, Steve to come to this dumbass party and then _fucked right off_ the moment they arrived. What he _did_ mind was that he didn’t even really _care_ that he’d left him; not until Billy ended up in the living room where Heather and Carol and whatever other pretty girls they were friends with sat on the floor in a circle. Hadn’t minded until Billy plonked himself down and joined their _stupid_ game of truth or dare.

They weren’t even playing _properly_ , anyway. It doesn’t count when every round is _I dare you to kiss Billy_!

And okay, maybe Steve was _jealous_. Maybe he liked having Billy around the way he had liked having Nancy around and maybe it took him a while to realise that. And maybe it hurt somewhere deep in his chest each time someone crawled into Billy’s lap, wrapped their arms around his neck (the way Steve wanted to) and pressed their lips to his (the way Steve wanted to _so fucking badly_ ). Maybe his heart broke every time Billy didn’t kiss back, choosing instead to look over her shoulder and stare at Steve, instead. (And if Steve thought he saw a tinge of longing in those blue eyes, then that was his business.)

Billy didn’t need to know any of that, though.

And _fuck_ , Steve needed to learn some self-respect. He wasn’t a _masochist_. he didn’t _like_ watching Billy with those girls, but Billy was like the sun; so bright and beautiful and he _knew_ that if he looked, it would _hurt_ , but it would be so worth the pain. 

Until Steve couldn’t do it anymore. Until it hurt too much to look. He’d always known the time would come to look away, to close his eyes before he blinded himself with Billy’s light. He only hoped he wasn’t too late as he kicked himself off the wall and shuffled into the kitchen, downing the rest of his beer on the way as if the alcohol would drown out the thoughts of those blue eyes on him.

All of a sudden beer didn’t seem strong enough (he was still thinking of those _eyes_ ) so he grabbed a red solo cup, was in the middle of filling it with too much tequila and not enough pink lemonade when he felt the weight of an arm, warm and familiar, drape across his shoulders.

“What are you doin’ back here by yourself, pretty boy?”

Steve wanted to roll his eyes, to snap, but he bit his tongue, used all his strength and self-control to shrug off the arm and mumbled: “Like you care.”

“Whoa, hey,” Billy frowned, feeling suddenly sober despite the fact that he hadn’t been even _close_ to drunk the entire night, hadn’t even finished _one beer_ , too busy watching the way Steve Harrington, ex-king of Hawkins high and resident pretty boy, had spent the whole night watching him. “What’s with the attitude, princess?”

And Steve, who had spent all night alone, had spent all night watching Billy Hargrove, boy of his god damn wet dreams, kissing people that were _not him_ , was at his wits end.

In an outburst reminiscent of his King Steve days, he slammed the cup down on the bench. “You asked me to come to this _stupid party_ and then you ditched me for some _shitty_ game!”

Now, Billy never claimed to be the most observant person. He knew he had a tendency to get caught up in his head, to project his ideas onto others, but he was sure he heard a twinge of jealousy in Steve’s words.

“Why don’t you join the fun?”

Steve couldn’t help but scoff, roll his eyes, turn away from Billy and go back to his drink. “Is this really your idea of fun?”

“Could be,” Billy said, crowding in close to Steve’s personal space. “If you were there.”

And sure, they were friends now, had built their bridges a long time ago, but _this_ was new. And sure, Steve’d had Billy warm and sweaty and pressed up against him on the court, but this wasn’t basketball. This was Steve and Billy, alone in a kitchen while a party raged on around them.

Billy’s hand landed soft on Steve’s shoulder and Steve felt like they were in their own, private bubble as Billy spun him so they were face to face.

Steve’s heart jumped into his throat.

He could feel Billy’s soft, warm breath hitting his face, smell the beer and the sweat and the cheap cigarettes. From this close, he could see every freckle, now barely-there from lack of California sun, could count every eyelash. From this close, Steve could kiss him if he wanted to.

And _fuck_ , he wanted to.

And then, Billy was saying-

“Dare me.”

Steve froze. Blinked. Tried to process exactly what Billy was asking as all he could focus on was the blue of Billy’s eyes, the blonde curl falling over his forehead.

“What?”

Billy gave a small, half-smile, the kind that was reserved for girls in the halls and teachers at school and the older ladies that had nothing better to do than lounge by the pool and eye a minor. This wasn’t the kind of smile Billy Hargrove used on someone like Steve Harrington.

Except that, apparently, it was.

“Truth or dare,” Billy said. “We’re playing. Dare me”

Steve shook his head. Billy was _drunk_ , must be. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how the game works, you-”

“Jesus Christ, Harrington! Just _dare me_!”

Billy was getting worked up now, pressing closer to Steve, towering over him because even though Steve was just that little bit taller, Billy was _broader_ , with tide shoulders and a strong chest and arms that were made to be covered in sweat and glistening under a golden sun.

“To _what_ , Billy?” And Steve was getting worked up too. His voice was strained and it was taking everything he had not to reach out and touch what he knew wasn’t his. “You aren’t making any sense!”

“To kiss you!”

The world stopped spinning. The air left Steve’s lungs. He opened his mouth to try and speak (not that he even knew what to say when the boy he’s been wanting for _months_ was talking about _kissing him_ ) but Billy beat him to it.

“Because I want to, pretty boy. Fuck, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while now. But I won’t unless you want me to. So dare me.”

And _that_ , fuck, that knocked all the air right out of Steve’s lungs. His chest tightened, his heart raced, beating so hard against his ribcage he wondered if Billy could hear it.

What did he say to that? _Billy_ wanted to _kiss him_. Billy, who was drooled over by every woman within a hundred-mile radius, who was a golden adonis stuck in Hawkins, Indiana and he wanted to kiss _Steve_. Steve who was a nobody, who hadn’t been anybody for a while now, who didn’t even want to come to this _dumb party_ in the first place.

What did he say to that?

Well.

He looked up at Billy through thick lashes, brown eyes sparkling, tongue coming out to wet his soft, pink lips. And then he spoke, and it was soft and it was low, barely a whisper but Billy heard it loud and clear.

“I dare you.”


End file.
